The Wonders of Weddings
by Mighty Amphitrite
Summary: Stability is on the rise in their post-war world, and when Ron proposes to Hermione, Harry starts to wonder: will he be able to let go of the past and embrace a future with Luna? And can the Wizarding world survive another Weasley wedding? HarryxLuna, R/Hr, NL/GW. Wonder!verse two shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A brief note to start:** this is part of my Harry/Luna Wonder!verse, but you don't have to read them in order for things to make sense. If you're curious, the others in the series are listed in my profile. **Also important:** Fred and Tonks are still alive, because I think my story works better that way. All rights to JKR, of course. Enjoy!

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

**The Wonders of Weddings**

"You don't have to be here for this."

Those weren't the last words he'd said before she left, but sometimes they felt like the most important. He'd looked into her eyes and saw the love and support she'd always shown, but they now barely masked the strain and anguish everyone strove to keep hidden during the Aftermath. He helped her pack, exchanged soft words of comfort and support, but they were washed from his mind whenever he remembered the sadness in her eyes.

"You don't have to be here for this."

"I think you made the right decision, Harry," Hermione said quietly, concern in her eyes, as they waited for the meeting to begin. He kept his focus on the door, nodding to the former Order members and old DA friends who had begun to trickle in. She sighed. Before she could speak again, he motioned to Ginny Weasley, who sat in the corner with a group of friends, to begin taking notes. As the crowd settled, he stood and waved for silence.

"You all know how this works. Just like last time, then. Reports, suggestions, volunteers. Who wants to go first?" With a grin, Tonks raised a hand and shuffled through her notes. They met every week or so, with those who couldn't attend sending reports in with a friend, taking stock of the recovery process and the overhaul of the Ministry. The Aftermath left the government in shambles and the faith of the country just as shattered. Harry had become a lone symbol of triumph overnight, and a of the bright future ahead. That thought terrified him as nearly nothing else had. As soon as the dust cleared, he gathered his friends from school and the Order and told them his two goals: to tell people what happened and who was responsible while they rebuilt the government from the ground up.

They sent representatives to towns around the country and to ministries across the continent, telling people what had truly gone on during the years after Voldemort's return, and sharing the stories of the brave men and women who had fought to bring about a new era of peace. Harry was adamant that the people know the truth, after living in a cloud of fear and lies for so long, and the last thing he wanted was for everyone to think he had 'won the war' single-handedly. So instead of self-congratulatory parades and speeches, Harry held meetings in shadowy pubs and people's living rooms, keeping their group updated on their progress, gathering suggestions for how to proceed with restructuring the government and their truth campaign, and sending volunteers off to keep the masses informed. He did his best to let the others have their say, and he always gave Minister Shacklebolt the last word.

It was a long, frustrating, nerve-wracking process, but Harry was determined not to let the stress show. He put on a brave face for his friends, and for his few public appearances, but he was also determined to shield Luna from the spotlight, and from any threats of retribution from the remnants of Voldemort's regime. She'd been gone barely two months and he could already feel his resolve wavering; he could take on any threat (or a dozen screaming reporters) if he could only see her smile…

Kingsley cleared his throat. Harry started and looked up guiltily. Having gained the attention of the room, Kingsley grinned and stood to give his parting words. Harry did his best not to slouch in his seat. Hermione shot him a knowing look as the meeting broke up and several people came forward to shake his hand. Before he could cross the room to check in with Ginny, he felt a hand on his arm, and stopped with a sigh.

"I saw the look on her face when the Scamanders told her she could join them on their expedition. As excited as she felt, she was sad to leave you, but you and I both know it was for the best."

"She said I could go along, you know," he said softly, nodding to the Weasley twins as they slipped out the door. "I could be searching for Strangling Spider-Lizards in Thailand right now." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"As if you'd leave the mopping up to the Order to go mucking around in the jungle. You're far too noble for that." He fought back a smile as she continued. "You're doing the right thing by staying to help, but it was right to let her go abroad while you sort things out, too." Ignoring his flustered "We! While _we _sort things out! Don't let people hear you-", she pressed on, "She's not used to this sort of pressure, this scrutiny. You can ease her into your world slowly, once things begin to settle." She paused, then added carefully, "It was the right thing to do, but I know it doesn't make you miss her any less."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

The months dragged on as they rooted out hidden threats, searched for the missing, and slowly rebuilt their society, brick by brick. Quite literally with new bricks at Hogwarts, which Harry left to a skilled crew of historians and masons; he wasn't ready to go back just yet. Unfazed by the publicity or the shadows of the past, Hermione jumped at the chance to return for her 7th year the moment the castle was declared structurally sound. As the threats around them began to fade, Luna took a Portkey to Harry's home once a month, then every other week, where they would stay up all night discussing her adventures. Rolf Scamander and his team were trekking across Asia to gather information for a new edition of his grandfather's seminal work and were keeping Luna safe and thoroughly entertained, as promised. In his dimly lit living room, she brought to life her journeys through rainforests and over mountains, cheerfully showing him her various insect bites and leaving little trinkets carved from wood and stone on his mantelpiece. Her first gift, a wooden lizard the size of his thumb, he kept in the pocket of his favorite cloak; he felt for it as he shrugged on the cloak and headed for the door after yet another meeting had come to a close.

"Harry?"

He paused and noticed Ron lingering in the hallway, a determined look on his face.

"What's up?" Ron beckoned him over, and Harry turned back with a sigh, watching his friend expectantly.

Ron took a shaky breath. "I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Hermione?"

Ron flushed. "Yes, Hermione! Who else? And she's right, we need to get Luna back from Nepal before you start walking into coatracks." Before Harry could defend his alertness, Ron pulled a small box from his pocket and held it up for him to see. "I figured it's time, you know? She's done with school, things are quieting down…"

Harry glanced around and saw that they were the only ones left. "I think you missed your chance, mate, she's already gone home."

"Not tonight!" Ron spluttered, shoving the box back in his coat and looking around cautiously, as if Hermione might walk back in at any moment. "Next week, maybe! Or after Christmas. Maybe on New Year's Eve." He shrugged nervously. "I'll figure it out. Just letting you know. I want you to be my Best Man."

Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course. And congratulations; I know she'll be thrilled." He grinned as they headed for the door and out into the cold night air. "I've never been to a celebrity wedding before. What should I wear? Are we allowed to speak to the press?"

"Ha, ha." Right before he Disapparated, Ron shot back, "Just wait, I'll bet yours will be a thousand times worse. There'll be reporters swinging from the rafters, and every witch in England will be lining up to talk you out of it."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

He'd done well through all of the early planning, encouraging Ron whenever doubts crept up and assuring Hermione that the napkins were the perfect shade of cream. He'd held it together that final week of madcap preparation, with guests coming in from all over and reporters hiding behind every tree. It wasn't until he walked up to the humongous white tent and stepped inside an hour before the ceremony that the memories hit him full force: the laughter and chatter of Bill and Fleur's guests turning to terrified screams as the Death Eaters descended upon them, while he, Ron, and Hermione Disapparated into the night…he stood frozen in the doorway, watching the Weasleys set out chairs and flowers for their youngest son's ceremony, and felt the old fear and uncertainty twist inside his gut. _Is this how it's going to be? _He thought numbly as people bustled past. _I can't have one good thing, one day, without being reminded of something terrible. _And most painful of all: _How could I have a future with her if I'm still being torn apart by my past?_

His mind abuzz with painful memories, he ducked out of the pavilion for a breath of fresh air, only to collide with a familiar figure as he sped down the garden path.

"Neville?" Harry asked, disentangling himself from the hedgerow they had both fallen into. He pulled his friend to his feet as Neville straightened his dress robes, looking rather frantic.

"Blimey, Harry, you took that corner rather fast. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Sorry, Neville, just have a lot on my mind today," he said sheepishly. "What are you doing back here? Everyone will be sitting down soon."

"I, er…" He shifted from foot to foot, grasping something in his pocket, even though Harry knew his wand to be hidden up his left sleeve. "I've just…just been…" Harry stared at him expectantly and Neville took a shaky breath. "After the ceremony," he said, his voice a bit higher than usual, "I'm going to ask Ginny to marry me."

Harry nearly fell back into the hedge. "That's great, Neville! I know she'll be thrilled." His heart beat faster as Neville rambled on.

"Things are settling down, it's finally time…it just feels right, you know? But now that I've decided, I don't know if I can go through with it without fainting on the spot." He laughed nervously. "But why are you barreling through the gardens, trampling Ron's guests instead of helping him get ready? What's got you so worked up?"

"Well, I was…" He turned and checked the path for other guests; they were alone. "Actually," he continued softly, "I was thinking I might ask Luna the same thing."

Neville's face lit up. "But that's brilliant! You ask Luna, make a grand gesture, get the room's attention, and then I'll ask Ginny and she's sure to say yes! Everyone will be so excited, she'll just-"

"Wait, wait a second!" Harry spluttered. "I haven't even decided if…and it was _your_ idea first, you should go ahead and-"

"No, it's a great idea, you should definitely ask first. _Please,_ Harry!" Neville grabbed him by the shoulders. "This could be the perfect moment, I don't want to ruin it by…everyone will be watching, and all of the Weasleys are here…what if she says no? I'd never live it down!"

Harry shook his head, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "No, it'll be fine, she's sure to say yes. Then, when everyone's cheering, I'll look over at Luna, try and guess what she's thinking-"

"No one can _ever_ guess what she's thinking!" Neville cried, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"My guesses can be pretty good, thanks!" Harry said indignantly.

"What's going on?"

They both spun on the spot and cried, "Nothing!" as Ron and his brothers wove through the garden toward them.

"Yeah, Harry, what's up?" Fred asked as he came up beside them. "It's your job to keep this one from going off the deep end," he said with a grin, jerking a thumb in Ron's direction.

Neville shot Harry a terrified glance and stammered, "We were just, uh...that is to say…"

"We were just discussing the, uh….the cake," Harry said in what he hoped was a calm, rational voice.

Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we, er, just wondered if it had been placed properly, that's all, in the right spot and everything."

George shot them a curious smile. "Cake's been there all morning, boys, pretty sure it's fine."

"Right then!" Harry grabbed Ron's arm and began steering him back toward the pavilion. "Glad that's settled. Let's get you ready then, shall we?"

Neville was not to be put off so easily. "But Harry, the _cake_," he muttered into Harry's ear, eyes wide.

Harry shook his head, but Fred called over his shoulder, "I think I saw Ginny by the cake table, Neville, why don't you go ask _her_ about it?" Neville blanched. Harry resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands.

Ignoring the twin smirks and confused looks they were receiving from the five older Weasleys, Harry told Neville, "Good, yes, you can fill me in _later_." He watched him turn nervously toward the tent before continuing to tow his best friend toward the ceremony space. "Right then, I'm sure you're all set. Who did up your tie? Looks great, even better than we practiced…"

"You sure you're all right, Harry?" Charlie asked, looking concerned.

"If they both have nervous breakdowns, do I get to be Best Man? I have an excellent toast prepared, just in case," Fred told Bill, rubbing his hands together excitedly as Percy checked his watch. Bill rolled his eyes.

"Do you have the rings, Harry?"

Harry nodded, grateful for the distraction. He clasped Ron's shoulder reassuringly. "I have them right here. Now all we have to do is walk in and smile until Hermione gets here. Nothing to it."

Ron stopped dead in his tracks, his face ashen. "_What if she doesn't come?_" He grabbed Harry's shoulders just as Neville had earlier, eliciting eye-rolls from all of his brothers and a poorly suppressed snort from Fred.

Harry patted Ron on the back. "I got word from your parents ten minutes ago, mate; she and the girls are dressed and ready." Harry gently turned him back toward the pavilion once more and began walking toward the entrance, trying to ignore his own shaking legs. "It's fine. Everything's going to be just fine."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

The ceremony was a blur of flowers and lace, Ron looking pale as Hermione blushed, the cheers and laughter of their guests, Luna's arm looped securely through his own. While the newlyweds shook hands and accepted congratulations, Harry helped the Weasleys rearrange the furniture and clear a space in the center of the tent for dancing. Luna and Ginny stood on either side of Ron and Hermione, taking up what Ginny laughingly called 'guard duty'. Harry smiled over at them as he levitated a dinner table off to the side, watching Luna calmly survey the crowd of guests. The space thus transformed, everyone sought out a seat and continued to mingle as they waited for dinner to be served. Harry sat down at the head table while his friends made their way over, shaking hands as they went. Luna was the first to join him, happily taking off her shoes to rest her feet; Harry shook his head as she slipped on the ballet flats he'd brought for her, wondering why Hermione had insisted the girls wear such uncomfortable-

BANG.

Harry was on his feet in an instant. Shoving Luna behind him, he drew his wand in a flash and turned to face the imminent threat. The rattling of silverware and dropped glasses filled the air as the other guests jumped and gasped in shock; Ron's brothers fanned out into the crowd, wands raised, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of Hermione grabbing frantically at her dress. _She brought her bag, _Harry thought wildly; _she brought her bag, just in case, but I'm too far to reach them…_but instead of her old beaded handbag, he realized she was only tugging her wand from a fold in her skirts. Dragging himself back to the present, Harry finally registered the source of the disturbance.

A terrified caterer knelt several feet away; the man stared up at Harry with wide eyes, a pile of metal serving trays scattered at his feet. The entire tent was silent as the Weasleys and their guests slowly put their wands away and turned to watch. Not taking his eyes off the man on the floor, Harry let his wandless hand fall to Luna's knee; he could feel her shaking through all of those layers of tulle. After giving her a reassuring squeeze, Harry took a deep breath, and another, then slowly stowed his wand back in his robes. He strode over to the man on the floor, took another deep breath, and reached down and helped the poor man to his feet. Harry held up a hand as the man began stammering out an apology and said, "Just be careful, yeah? You're finding your way around some pretty tough terrain."

The man laughed weakly and scooped up his trays; Harry walked back to his table and sank into his seat, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair and embarrass himself any further. Mrs. Weasley was alternating between scolding her over-zealous sons and cheerfully encouraging her guests to take their seats and pop open the champagne. Ron and Hermione had finally reached the head table, watching in stunned silence as Harry straightened his robes and reached for Luna's hand. She flung her arms around him and he gasped, nearly choking on a cloud of blonde hair.

"I thought you were leaving," she whispered, and he struggled to breathe for an entirely different reason. "I thought they were back, and you'd leave with your friends, just like before." Harry shook his head and held her close, then gently set her back in her chair, still aware of the other guests eyeing him curiously. He handed her a glass of water, then looked straight into her over-bright eyes and said softly, "I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

After dinner, during which Mrs. Weasley could be heard reassuring the guests at her table, quite loudly, that the wards around the tent were as secure as could be, Ron and Hermione got up to take some pictures by the cake while the band tuned up for the first dance. After casting a fond glance over at his friends, Harry turned back and realized that Neville was shooting him looks of increasing desperation from where he sat with Ginny, Bill, and Fleur. Harry tilted his head toward Ginny and widened his eyes, hoping he would take the hint, but Neville shook his head violently, pointing between Harry and Luna, then pretending to sneeze when Ginny looked his way. Harry turned determinedly to face the band, and found himself watching Luna instead; she was listening carefully to the tuning violinists and toying with the ruffles on her dress.

The sound of chairs shifting brought him back to Earth: Ron and Hermione had returned to the table, each carrying a small plate of cake. Still attempting to ignore Neville, who seemed to be twitching uncontrollably, Harry greeted his friends before turning to Luna once again.

"Hey, Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?"

He tugged at his collar; the tent suddenly seemed very warm. "Would…would you like a piece of cake?"

"Yes, thank you." She smiled and turned back to watch the musicians, who were currently rifling through their sheet music, which seemed to have gotten out of order.

He could feel Hermione's eyes burning into the back of his head; she must have sensed something was up. Even Ron had turned his way with a puzzled frown. Did the room seem quieter? How could it, with all of those people? He reached out and took her hand, and she turned toward him, head tilted inquiringly.

"Luna?"

"Yes, Harry."

He sat up straighter in his chair, took a deep breath, and gripped her hand a little tighter.

"Do…do you…I mean…would you like to go to Morocco with me?"

Harry thought he heard groans of disappointment from the nearby tables as Luna considered his question, but his ears seemed to be ringing, so he couldn't be certain.

"When?" she asked. "I'm told it gets quite warm there in the summer, unless…oh, look!"

At the next table over, Neville stood abruptly, sending his chair toppling over. His face red but incredibly determined, he sank to one knee at Ginny's feet and grabbed her hands, speaking in an incoherent rush. Ginny shrieked and pulled him to his feet into a crushing hug. She dragged him to the center of the room, where they spun and laughed across the dance floor. Startled, the band quickly struck up a tune, the bandleader looking around in confusion for the bride and groom.

"Oi! They're stealing our first dance!" Ron huffed, gesturing at the pair with his fork.

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Just eat your cake, Ron." She smiled secretively at Harry, who regarded her warily, before she turned to watch their friends' joyful dance. "I'm sure we'll all be out there soon enough."

Harry sighed, wondering when and how he'd finally lost his nerve. Swaying to the music, Luna turned to him and smiled. "They look happy."

Harry couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, they do." Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued, "So, about before…"

Her face lit up. "Oh yes, Morocco! That would be quite an adventure. When would you like to go?"

"Well, I figured…that is, perhaps next spring, after…after we're married."

He paused, biting his lip, waiting for her reaction. She blinked slowly; he wished desperately that he had planned this moment more carefully. She leaned toward him, watching his face. "Do you really mean that? Is that what you want?" she asked softly.

"More than anything," he replied, holding her hand a bit tighter than necessary.

Her smile lit up the room. "That sounds like a wonderful idea." Beaming down at the slice of cake a server placed before her, she continued animatedly, "I wonder…should we leave for Africa after we get married, or should we get married there to save time?"

"You could get married right now; we have a tent set up and everything," said George helpfully from two tables over, and was quickly shushed by his brothers. Harry felt his face heating up; why had they arranged the tables so close together? He focused instead on tucking into his cake, and the feeling of Luna's hand in his. Ginny had begun dragging an out-of-breath Neville from table to table showing off her new ring to her family and friends.

Ron pushed away his empty plate and sighed. "We should probably head them off before they get to Fred and George's table; Fred looks like he has something up his sleeve. Literally." As he stood and straightened his robes, he added, "And I'd like a word with Neville myself."

Hermione shot him a look as she stood up to join him. "Leave the poor man alone for one night; it's time for our dance. And you," she said with a nod in Harry's direction. "Come share the first dance with us."

Luna turned to Harry hopefully as Ron muttered, "The second dance, thanks to my sister and her _fiancé_."

Hermione gave him a light shove, and Ron had to fight to keep his scowl in place. Grinning, she said, "I think it's wonderful that we have more reason to celebrate, so stop whining and let's go celebrate together." With that she took Ron's hand and led him toward the dance floor, grabbing Harry with her free hand as she passed. Still clutching Luna's hand like a lifeline, the three of them were dragged out into the open to a barrage of cheers and whistles from the assembled crowd. Hermione waved Ginny and Neville over as Ron signaled the bandleader to start the next song.

As the six of them spun around the dance floor, Harry took in the scene around him: the assembled Weasleys and their guests clapping along to the music, his friends' beaming faces as they danced, the fierce joy in Luna's eyes when he held her close…_maybe, _he thought, _weddings aren't so bad after all._

~*~HPHPHP~*~

So not the most conventional wedding fic, but I have my reasons: since Harry's one and only wedding experience ended with mass panic and governmental collapse, I figured even the calmest of ceremonies would set him on edge. Let the healing begin! A theme I've noticed in my writing is trying to help characters through tough times (it's in my Glee fics, too), so I guess I just want everyone to be happy : )

I hope you enjoyed the first half! The more my Larry stories progress, the further they branch off from Canon, so I'm interested to hear your feedback. And if you're interested in Harry and Luna's earlier adventures, take a look at my other stories! **Come Wonder With Me** shows how they first got together, and all of the other stories branch off from there. The story order is listed in my profile, if you'd like to read them chronologically. Happy reading! And thanks so much for checking out my story; each and every view, follow, favorite, and review is ridiculously exciting.

Until next time,

MA


	2. Chapter 2

To Harry, it sometimes felt as if he would be planning weddings for the rest of his life.

After parting ways with Rolf Scamander in the Australian Outback, Luna had returned home to her father to discuss her adventures and organize her research. Between recovering from her travels and his final hectic weeks of Auror training, her visits were few and far between. She hinted at having possible wedding ideas in her letters, but never gave any details; Harry had a feeling she and Ginny, the future Matron of Honor, would be putting their heads together the moment the next Weasley ceremony was over.

Molly and Arthur Weasley, ecstatic at the prospect of a wedding for their only daughter, threw themselves wholeheartedly into planning the event the moment Ron and Hermione's tent had been magically packed away. Harry had agreed to be Neville's Best Man, which gave him an excuse to postpone his own wedding planning and have some time to himself in the guise of running errands for his friend. Harry didn't want even the faintest rumors of his own engagement overshadowing Neville and Ginny's big day; they deserved their moment in the spotlight.

For now, Harry happily kept his focus on encouraging Neville to enjoy the experience while helping him avoid a nervous breakdown. A month before the ceremony, all was well: Harry, Ron, and Neville were off to get fitted for new dress robes; Ron's suggestion that they use the same ones from his wedding was quickly shot down by Ginny, who insisted that they didn't match her color scheme. Harry checked his watch. Seamus and Dean would be arriving for their own fittings soon; after Ron's wedding went off without a hitch (or a single kidnapping), their old friends suddenly found their calendars clear and were eager to show Neville their support. Ginny said it was the same with her old classmates, and though they were both excited to reconnect, Neville was beginning to feel nervous about his ever-growing audience. Harry was doing his best to keep Neville calm and organized, and hoped seeing their old yearmates would come as a welcome distraction.

Harry turned at the sound of a jangling chime from the front of the shop and grinned when he saw Dean and Seamus heading towards them. They called out greetings and clapped Neville on the back, careful not to dislodge the pins that the seamstress had already placed in his robes. They asked (for the eleventh time) to hear the story of Neville's proposal, laughing and cheering at the end while keeping their arms still as the shop's magical measuring tape swirled around them.

"Have you heard what they're saying about the new castle?" Dean asked as Seamus succumbed to the seamstress' pins.

Harry raised an eyebrow. His friends knew he rarely spoke of Hogwarts' destruction and had yet to return to school grounds, in part for fear of being ambushed by the press. "We hear all sorts of things. Seems it's almost finished."

Dean nodded. "They're set to re-establish the wards next week, as I'm sure you know. The focus is fully on teaching, now that the restoration's done."

"Is that all?" Ron asked, tugging on his new sleeves. "I can get better intel than that in my sleep."

"That's because he hasn't told you the good part," Seamus said, grinning.

"And what's that?" Neville asked as he stepped out of his new robes and shrugged on his sweater.

"The Ministry wants to cover the place in memorial plaques, and name every classroom and corridor after a different war hero," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "There's a new battle being waged between one marker on the grounds, which you'd think would be enough, and a hundred inside."

"What we were wondering," Seamus said, grinning mischievously at Harry, "is which wing they'll name after _you_."

Harry blinked, nonplussed. "Tell me you're not serious."

"Our bet," Seamus continued, "is the Great Hall. The Entrance Hall, at the very least."

"Planning committees and advocacy groups are coming out of the woodwork, mate," Dean said, chuckling at the horrified look on Harry's face. "If the public had their way, we'd be up to our ears in memorials, and there'd be a statue of you in every village."

"Over my dead body," Harry said, glowering at his snickering friends. "On second thought, no, not even when I'm dead will that ever be okay."

"What about a shiny new Potter Memorial Chandelier?" Ron suggested, elbowing Neville. "You could forever shine your light upon our nation's children. On second thought, I call the chandelier, and Harry can have the library or something."

Harry sighed as the others laughed, trying and failing to fight back a smile. "If we're divvying up the castle, shouldn't Hermione get the library? If they really want my name on something, they can carve it into the door of the Quidditch broom shed."

Chuckling, Neville shook his head. "At least let them put your name on the back of a Professor's chair or something, just to get it out of their systems."

"That's not nearly good enough for our friend, Nev," Seamus said solemnly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It should be a place with meaning, an important part of his Hogwarts experience, where young Harry spent countless hours." Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing; he'd clearly heard this joke before.

Harry watched them warily. "And where, pray tell, would that be?"

"Why, the Harry Potter Hospital Wing, of course!"

Ron's bark of laughter startled the seamstress, who pricked Seamus with a pin; his muttered cursing only caused the others to laugh harder.

"You can be the first patient!" Ron gasped, collapsing against Neville, who was close to tears himself.

Harry crossed his arms and scowled. "I wasn't there _all_ the time, it can't have been more than everyone else-"

"Maybe everyone else combined," Dean snorted.

"-and it's not like Quidditch was the safest hobby-"

"No other players had their own spot ready and waiting," Seamus countered. "I'm surprised Pomfrey didn't put your name on that bed in the corner."

Harry shook his head. "If I have to join some committee to keep my name off the wall, I will," he said, then grinned. "And just so you know, Finnegan, it'll be on you to explain to your grandchildren why there's a toilet named after you in the girl's bathroom."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

The day before the wedding dawned bright and clear, and after swinging by to look in on the Weasley's preparations, Harry went to check on Neville. His Gran told Harry that he was over at his newly-purchased cottage in the nearby village, and after a slightly awkward tea spent reminiscing over Neville's childhood, Harry continued on to the cottage.

When no one answered his knock, Harry made his way around to the back garden, where he found Neville on his hands and knees next to a teetering pile of bulbs. His arms were caked with dirt and there was a stray leaf stuck to his forehead; he looked more cheerful than he had in days.

After calling hello, Harry ducked inside to set down his coat and Conjure a pair of old jeans to wear, then went back out to join his friend.

Harry knelt down in the dirt and gestured toward the bare earth. "What are we planting?"

Neville grinned and handed Harry a bulb, which seemed to be quivering in anticipation of being planted; Harry hoped they didn't bite. After demonstrating how deeply they needed to be buried and which end was up, Neville tossed a few more bulbs at Harry's feet and they went to work, making a solid dent in the pile. They were a long-lasting flower from France, Neville explained as they worked their way down the rows, and a surprise for Ginny.

"They're some of her favorites," Neville said as he reached for another bulb. "We'll have red, purple, and white flowers blooming in a few weeks, her favorite colors."

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Harry asked, leaning back to stretch and shake out his sore shoulders.

Neville remained hunched forward, his eyes on the bulb in his hand. "I think so," he said softly. "Hope so, anyway." He looked up at Harry and asked, "Does it ever feel too good to be true? Like, sometimes I can't believe this is really happening, that we're not still doing our best just to get by, while we wait for the next disaster."

Harry nodded. "It's a hard mindset to shake off. It's a relief, yeah, but I still half expect hooded figures to jump out and grab me at the market."

Neville laughed quietly, still looking thoughtful. "You don't- you don't think, once the shine of us being War Heroes and all wears off, Ginny will get bored with a regular sort of life with a regular sort of bloke and run off with some foreign Quidditch player?"

Harry stared at him, fighting back a smile. "Is that what you think, that life with you won't be exciting enough? That vine next to the hedge tried to strangle me on my way into the yard!"

"It was just saying hello!" Neville said indignantly.

"We've had enough excitement for a while, mate. I think we're all looking forward to some peace and quiet." He sat back down in the dirt, tossing a bulb from hand to hand. "I worry about future threats, sometimes…I figure I'll always have enemies somewhere, which is nothing I can't handle, but with Luna…" He sighed heavily. "Sometimes I think I should've let her spend the rest of her life wandering the globe with Scamander. She'd be safer with him."

Neville dropped his bulb in shock. "Are you mental? You think _my_ garden is bad, you wouldn't _believe_ what they've got growing in Australia- wait," he said, a look of horrified comprehension on his face. "You're not thinking of calling it off, are you? Just because of the risk?"

Harry flushed. "I didn't- it's just that-"

"Ginny would _kill_ you! They've been putting their heads together for weeks, planning it out in secret with charts and lists and, and _diagrams_-"

"I'd never hurt her like that, Neville, I'm just saying-"

He brandished his dropped bulb in Harry's face. "Do you know what would happen if I planted this little fellow in a glass box, to protect it from the outside world?" Harry shook his head. "It would _suffocate_." Neville slumped back, all of the fight draining out of him in an instant. "Just, just remember that we've all seen horrible things, and made it through. She's stronger than you know."

Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder, smiling ruefully. "As Best Man, aren't I supposed to be talking _you_ off the ledge?"

Neville buried his bulb and dusted off his hands, grinning. "Ron's not done a very good job of keeping you in line. We might need two Best Men to survive a Potter wedding." Harry gave him a playful shove and followed his friend inside for a much needed break.

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

The Longbottom-Weasley Wedding was an upbeat affair, the tent full to bursting with guests laughing and dancing through a veritable explosion of exotic flowers. When he wasn't dancing with Ginny, Neville could be found eagerly describing the wide variety of plants on display to whoever happened to be within earshot. Harry had never seen him so happy. The ceremony had gone swimmingly: though the Groom had seemed reasonably composed, Harry had cast a quick spell on Neville's knees just in case they gave out, and from the look on his friend's face when Ginny walked down the aisle, it had been the right move.

"Are you ready, Harry?"

He turned and saw Mr. Weasley weaving around a cluster of ferns, a wide smile on his face. Harry smiled back; the man looked years younger, swelling with pride every time he caught sight of his daughter darting through the foliage.

"Ready, Sir?"

His smile faltered. "Your speech, son. You do have something written down, don't you? Everyone's about to take their seats."

Harry held up a scrap of paper. "I wrote down a couple of notes for the toast to keep me straight. Should be alright."

Glancing around, Mr. Weasley beckoned Harry closer. "I don't mean to put on any extra pressure, but…you do realize that this is the first time you've spoken in public since- well, let's just say people are curious about what you might say." With a jolt, Harry realized he was right. He avoided public events whenever he could, and all thoughts of a toast at Ron's wedding had flown from his head the second he'd thought his friends were in danger. He nodded to Mr. Weasley and said, "I'll do my best."

Mr. Weasley clapped him on the shoulder, and together they made their way over to the head table.

After thanking everyone for coming and congratulating his daughter, Mr. Weasley announced that it was time for the Best Man to make his toast. Harry took Luna's hand as he reached for his glass. "Wish me luck."

She merely smiled and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Quidditch in springtime, Harry."

Grinning, he imagined a sun-washed pitch, rose from his chair, and said, "Hello, everyone."

The room fell silent surprisingly fast, and an unnerving number of eyes turned his way.

"I'm here to give a toast to my friend Neville, and to congratulate him and Ginny on their marriage today." There was a smattering of applause; Neville and Ginny smiled graciously at their guests, then turned back to face Harry, who was wracking his brain for the right thing to say. When the room was silent once again, Harry cleared his throat and continued.

"I met Neville my first day on the Hogwarts Express. We've been friends through good times, bad times, and worse times." He cleared his throat again. No one moved. "No matter how bad things get, Neville Longbottom is someone you can count on to have your back and to stand up for what's right. We may not know what the future holds, but if we all follow his example, I think we'll be on the right track."

Turning to Neville, Harry said, "Thanks for standing by me, mate. I know you'll always stand by Ginny, and I wish you both the best. To Neville Longbottom!" Harry raised his glass high as the other guests called out Neville's name and cheered. As the Groom flushed and waved hesitantly at the jubilant crowd, Hermione leaned around Luna and whispered, "Nicely done, Harry."

Ginny bounded over as Harry sat down and the guests returned to their meals. "Thank you, Harry! You've been such a help to Neville, you don't even know." She gave him a tremendous hug and cried, "We'll make sure you and Luna have the best wedding ever, just you wait!" Ginny returned to her seat, leaving a dumbfounded Harry in her wake.

_How did I let that sneak up on me? _He wondered as he watched Neville and Ginny talking and laughing with the Weasleys. _Maybe I should have made a longer speech…_

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

Upon their return from their honeymoon in Canada (the trip to the Butchart Gardens was a gift from Neville's Gran), Ginny sent owls to Harry's wedding party with the date for a planning luncheon. Harry's responding owl that a meeting wasn't necessary and that there was plenty of time to sort out the details was met with a sterner owl stating that time was of the essence and that Fleur had already agreed to bring finger foods. With a feeling of foreboding, Harry found himself on the Longbottom's doorstep, wondering what he was getting himself into.

Ginny and Luna were waiting for him in the living room; various Weasleys were milling about the house, munching on tiny sandwiches and poring over some sort of chart. Harry grinned and gave Luna a hug; she took his hand and pulled him over to the couch while Ginny gathered the others together. Luna got up to stand next to Ginny as Harry was joined by Neville, Ron, and Hermione on the couch; Fred and George piled onto the armchair while Bill and Fleur leaned against the couchback.

"Okay, everyone! Let's get right to it." After making sure she had everyone's attention, Ginny passed out a roll of parchment to each guest and put a hand on Luna's shoulder. "We've gathered you here today to talk about the logistics of Harry and Luna's wedding. And while most things _can_ be 'sorted out later'," she said, with a pointed look at Harry, "Luna and I have realized that the most difficult part of the planning will be security."

"They're right, of course," Hermione chimed in. "A gathering of people can be secured to a certain extent, but we'll need to both monitor threats and manage the arriving guests." She sat up straight in her seat, as if ready to take notes at a Ministry meeting. "What do you propose?"

Luna gestured around the room and said, "You're the only ones who will know where the real wedding will be."

Ginny explained that they would be keeping the time and place a closely guarded secret. The charts she'd given out contained plans for securing the area before, during, and after the ceremony, lists of approved guests and trustworthy Aurors, and three different evacuation procedures.

Ron read over his copy, scratching his head. "So how will your guests know where to go?"

"I know they say three's a crowd," Fred added, "but this does seem like a lot of effort if we're the only ones who show up."

"We're sending out coded invitations," Ginny continued. "Luna wrote the riddle. We'll give them a three day window so they can mark their calendars, and for anyone who hasn't solved it by the day before, we'll go around delivering Portkeys to make sure everyone on the list makes it."

Harry set down his parchment, which had begun to make his vision swim. "Won't this make people even more determined to figure out what we're doing? How long until some reporter steals an invitation and solves the riddle?"

"We'll hold a contest," Luna said with a smile. "I'll send a wedding announcement to the Daily Prophet, which will have another riddle; the first member of the press to solve it will get to come to the ceremony and publish an exclusive story."

"That we approve of. And no pictures," said Ginny firmly. "That way everyone gets a fair shot. If we said 'no press', they'd never leave you alone."

Harry's head was spinning. "What about Polyjuice Potion?" He asked. "Someone could cook up a disguise and pretend they couldn't solve the riddle, and we'd be leading them right to us."

"We'll be keeping the guests under observation," Ginny said. "The Minister will have-"

"But they could be kidnapped, or blackmailed into sending an imposter; same with the winning reporter. There could be an attack nearby in protest, or as a diversion…"

"Or we could all catch Dragon Pox the night before, or our dress robes could catch fire during the ceremony," Ginny said crossly. "We'll think things through, make a solid plan, and hope for the best, like we do every day. You two should be able to have a nice wedding just like anybody else. This is going to work, I promise."

"It's as good a plan as any, Harry," Hermione said, looking over Ginny's diagrams. "I helped with the contingencies," she added, "and I think if we keep our eyes and ears open we shouldn't have any problems."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "It all just seems so…complicated."

Ron snorted. "Compared to all of your other plans? We'd pulled off a dozen crazier schemes than this before we were thirteen. Or have you forgotten our chat with that swarm of man-eating spiders?"

Harry shot him a glare. "I'm just saying…I may have a simpler idea."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying you have a better plan than the one I slaved over for two weeks? Do tell."

"George, get the camera."

"_We _could take Polyjuice, Luna and I," Harry said in a rush, "and get married in disguise. In Morocco, or Brazil, maybe."

"_That's _your plan?!"

"But 'Arry!" Fleur gasped. "You could not take pictures!"

"And what, we'd be in disguise, too?" Neville asked with a frown.

"You could be," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "We'd bring a few people to watch in person and, I dunno, film it for everyone else. Hermione, do your parents have a video camera?"

The others looked at him blankly as Hermione scowled. "I'm not letting you send our friends a video of _unrecognizable stolen identities _in a Moroccan marketplace."

"And we've already planned our ensembles!" Ginny cried, throwing up her hands. "The final fitting is on Tuesday!"

Harry turned to Luna, who remained silent as his friends continued to raise objections. He looked deep into her eyes, willing her to understand. "I just…I couldn't bear it if anything happened…" _To you,_ he couldn't bring himself to say. _To anyone we cared about. What if our chance at a life together goes terribly wrong? What if you decide I'm not worth the trouble? What if, what if, what if…_

She merely smiled and knelt down to sit on Neville's coffee table, taking Harry's hands in hers. Neville winced; Harry hoped it wasn't some sort of heirloom.

"Do you trust me?"

All eyes turned to him. Harry nodded.

She patted his hand. "Then listen to Ginny. All you have to do is wear your robes from Hermione's wedding; I'll have them pressed and waiting. Don't worry," she said calmly, "I've got you."

Harry swallowed, then nodded again. "Okay," he said hoarsely, "Okay." As everyone in the room let out the breaths they were holding, Harry gave her a small smile. "I'll leave it to you, then. But if anything happens, if you catch wind of the slightest threat-"

"We'll tell you all about it at your first anniversary party," Bill said from behind him, and the others laughed.

"You've never let us down," Hermione said softly, Ron nodding beside her. "We'll do whatever it takes to get this to work."

"Don't worry, Harry," Ginny said firmly. "Leave it to us; everything will be _fine_."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

The night was unseasonably cold; Harry hunted around for a cloak in the dark, leaving his broomstick propped against the door. His house seemed to be getting more cramped with each passing day and he found himself in desperate need of fresh air. Hoping a night flight would clear his head, Harry grabbed his broom and reached for the doorknob, just as the entire room was flooded with light.

"What are you doing?"

Blinking the spots from his eyes, Harry saw Ron standing on the stairs, gripping the banister rather tightly. He was taking his Best Man duties quite seriously, and had insisted on staying with Harry the final week before the ceremony; his brilliantly orange pajamas made the room seem even brighter.

"Couldn't sleep," Harry said sheepishly, passing his broom from hand to hand. "I think I just need to get out of the house for a bit, take a lap around the neighborhood-"

"Are you _mental_?"

Harry frowned. "What? It's cloudy, I don't think anyone will see me-"

Ron snorted. "Isn't _that_ convenient!"

Harry gaped at him. "What on earth is your - wait…did you think I was going to make a run for it?"

Ron stared at him in disbelief. "You're heading out the door in the dark, on the night before your wedding, with a broom in your hand. What am I _supposed _to think?" He put his head in his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes. "I can't believe this," Ron muttered, clearly wishing he were back in bed. "If the girls hadn't called and asked how you were, I wouldn't even know you'd gone missing until it was too late. Are you _trying_ to give me a bloody heart attack?"

"I just wanted some air!" Harry shot back. "Give me some credit! And don't you think if I was leaving I'd just throw on my cloak, or Disapparate?"

Ron shrugged. "You hate Apparition. A broom would've been my first guess."

When Harry scoffed, Ron scowled and moved to block the door. "You may not see how this looks, but people do mad things when they feel cornered; I'm not letting you out of my sight until Neville and Ginny come by for breakfast. Who _knows_ what Hermione would do to me if I let you escape-"

"So I'm your hostage now?"

"If that's what it takes."

Harry struggled to keep his breathing steady. "You may be my best mate, but if you don't let me take a few laps to keep my head from exploding, I'll glue you to the floor until I get back." Seeing that Ron was on the verge of a meltdown, he added, "Or, if it makes you feel better, you could come with me."

His olive branch did not have the desired effect. "What, and have everyone think I was your accomplice? I may as well throw myself out the attic window now and save Ginny the trouble."

Before he could raise further objections, the fire in the living room grate roared to life. The color drained from Ron's face; he shoved Harry bodily toward the staircase and said in a strangled whisper, "_She's checking in! _Go hide upstairs, I'll tell her-"

"Or I can go fly around the garden until you get back-"

"Not on your life!" When Harry was safely back in his bedroom, Ron muttered, "Just let me handle this. I'll be right back."

Harry sank into his desk chair with an exasperated sigh. Through the crack in the door, he could hear quiet voices floating up from the living room. After a moment, he heard soft footsteps on the stairs. Ron stuck his head into Harry's room, looking nervous.

"Alright, we'll go flying, but only if I get the Firebolt. I'm not going to chase you across the countryside on my Cleansweep. And another thing," he added as Harry cheered. "Just out of curiosity, where does Luna go when she wants to think?"

Harry grinned. "It's past midnight. Tell them to check the roof."

Ron sighed. "You two are impossible. Let me talk to Hermione and we'll go flying. Then will you _please_ just go to bed?"

Harry hopped to his feet with a grin. "Promise."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

After a glorious flight and a few hours of fitful slumber, Harry had opened his bedroom door only to discover a snoring Ron at his feet. Rolling his eyes, Harry attempted to step over him, but the creak of the floorboards gave him away. Ron jerked awake, blearily shifting to block the door and nearly grabbing Harry's ankle, murmuring, "Won't let you escape. Back to bed."

"It's morning," Harry sighed, nudging Ron with his foot. "Time to release the prisoner."

Breakfast was a rather awkward affair. Harry couldn't stop fidgeting, Ron glared groggily down at his cereal bowl, and Neville looked nervously from one to the other, as if waiting to see who would crack first. Ginny bustled around refilling glasses and passing out itineraries, too swept up in the excitement of the day to worry about the mental states of the groomsmen. As they were finishing up, there was a knock at the door; Harry shot up from his seat, and was quickly shoved down by Ron. "Not you," he ground out, returning to his own seat. "Get the door, Neville. Make sure there's no funny business going on."

Sending his friends a curious look, Neville stepped out of the kitchen, returning moments later with a note in his hand. "She sent your robes over, just like she promised," he said, grinning at Harry, "and this."

He passed Harry the note, which he opened carefully. After reading through it several times, Harry looked up to find his friends watching him expectantly.

"Well?" Ginny asked, nearly bouncing with excitement. "What does it say?"

"It says," Harry said hoarsely, clearing his throat, "it says, 'Make sure your laces are tied tight, so you don't trip. Mine have buckles."

Ron snorted and handed Ginny his plate as the others exchanged smiles. "Why does anything still surprise me?" he mumbled. "Is that on my Best Man's To-Do list, Ginny? Keeping Harry from falling flat on his face? Because at this point, I consider showing up in one piece a major accomplishment."

After sending her brother a look, Ginny gently patted the hand that held the note, which had begun to shake. "That was very thoughtful of her, wasn't it boys?" she said, and Neville nodded encouragingly; Ron just rolled his eyes and poured himself another cup of tea. "Everything's going to be fine, Harry. All you have to do is get dressed and meet us at the shore in an hour. And Ron and Neville will be right there with you. Okay? Harry?"

He had been staring at the note. Looking up, he said, "Yeah. Great."

Ginny sighed and turned to her husband. "You helped him save the Wizarding World, can I at least trust you to get him to the ceremony on time?"

Neville gave her a hug and a smile. "We'll have our shoes tied and everything."

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

As their winning reporter, a clever young witch from Wales, would later write, the misty sea air held them close like a hug from an old friend as the guests slowly gathered by the shore in anticipation. Harry wasn't sure about all that, but he certainly loved the smell of the salty fresh air, and was glad Hermione had thought to cast Warming Charms around the ceremony space so the friendly mist didn't give their guests pneumonia.

After arriving at their chosen stretch of coast, time seemed to warp around Harry as he drifted about, observing the preparations as if through a dream. He watched Bill and Fleur erect a simple arch in the sand for what seemed like hours, and moments later his guests were appearing up and down the beach, murmuring excitedly to one another. Finally catching sight of his wayward charge, Ron dragged Harry into the reception tent for a pep talk and a glass of water. Harry barely heard a word of it, staring into his glass and wondering…a flash of yellow caught his eye, and old memories came flooding back as he saw Xenophilius Lovegood moving cheerfully through the crowd.

_They'd gone looking for answers, and in the Lovegood home found much more than they bargained for. "Where's Luna?" he'd asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice, but the pale man before him hung his head, and in that moment his fears were justified. "They took her, Thursday evening, while she was out picking flowers," he said softly, tears sliding down his cheeks. "They came for the same knowledge you seek, and wished to trade my daughter's life for yours." He heard Hermione gasp softly beside him, but couldn't look away._

_"But a Death Eater's promise is worth less than the dirt on my boots. They will never return her to me." He faced Harry, then, with eyes full of anguish. "I'll tell no one you came here this day. If what my daughter says is true, you carry the hope of our world on your shoulders and a great love in your heart." Mr. Lovegood clasped his hands around Harry's, as his daughter so often had at school. "Root out this great evil, Mr. Potter. Bring an end to this madness! But first, please: bring my Luna back to me."_

He was standing beneath the arch as the last of their gusts found their seats…how was he already at the altar? The Ministry official Hermione had brought in eyed Harry nervously; Harry tried to smile or nod his way, but found his face had become rather numb. The man pointed his wand at a harp at his feet, and the strings began plucking themselves, which Harry took to mean that the ceremony was starting. How was the ceremony already starting?

His friends began to walk toward him across the sand, Ron and Hermione first; Ron in his robes from Neville's wedding, Hermione in some sort of dress beneath a cream-colored cape. She held some sort of bundle beneath her arm, and when she caught his eye, she smiled.

_"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"_

_"Ron, we need a plan, stop yelling – we need to get these ropes off – "_

_"Harry?" came a whisper through the darkness. "Ron? Is that you?"_

_Ron stopped shouting. They heard footsteps, then Harry saw a shadow moving closer._

_"Luna?"_

_"Yes, it's me! Oh no, I didn't want you to be caught!"_

_Harry rushed towards her, causing Ron to stagger; hugging her as best he could while bound, he said, "We'll find a way out of this. Finding _you_ was the hard part. Everything's going to be okay." He took a deep breath, willing himself to believe his own words. "First things first – can you help us get these ropes off?"_

Bill and Fleur had joined the procession, and Harry finally realized what the girls were carrying: they each had sheaves of wheat tucked beneath their left arms. It probably had something to do with why their dresses looked like togas, Harry decided. His eyes were drawn to the crowd in front of him, where every face was turned to him expectantly, glowing with excitement and awe. He would have found the sight quite terrifying if the whole thing didn't feel entirely surreal. His side of the seated guests was mostly made up of Weasleys, old friends from school, and the survivors of the Order. Luna's side appeared to be a bit more varied and much more colorful, except for a young man in the back row who watched him with curiosity rather than adoration. It took Harry a moment to recognize him without his Slytherin robes: Luna had invited Robin Clark, her old Potions study partner.

_Sprinting down corridor after corridor, shouts and screams echoing all around as the floor shook beneath them, Harry and his friends stumbled along beneath the Invisibility Cloak in search of the final Horcrux. It killed Harry not to stay and help the other fighters as they passed by, but he knew they had to destroy Voldemort before they had any chance of saving the others…_

_They rounded a corner and saw a Death Eater up ahead who had several students pinned behind a pillar. The sight of Slytherin robes nearly stopped Harry in his tracks. Two young Ravenclaws were crouched behind a boy with brown hair, a look of terrified determination on his face. It was Robin, the boy he'd met from Luna's Potions class, who had been kind to her when no one was watching. _His whole family is named after birds_, Harry thought suddenly, ducking beneath several jets of light. Luna had mentioned once that his parents were named Martin and Wren…shoving those memories and his guilt aside, Harry put on a fresh burst of speed and ran on._

A strong hand clamped down on Harry's shoulder. "Almost there," Ron muttered, his smile growing rather tense. Harry hadn't realized he'd been shaking.

They were currently being approached by Teddy and Victoire, who had insisted that she was too old to be a flower girl and wanted to walk down the aisle just like her Mum and Dad. Teddy kept patting his pocket to check if the rings were still inside. Harry nearly laughed, but held back at the last moment, rather afraid he would start to cry.

Neville and Ginny were last. _It's almost time,_ Harry thought dizzily as Neville nodded to him, his eyes clouding with worry at the sight of Harry's pale face. _How is this possible?_ How could they do something so real, so meaningful, without it coming apart? It was too much to hope for, it had to be…While Harry frantically wracked his brain for a means of escape, Ginny moved to stand in her place in line, then turned to him and winked.

_"Hi, Luna," said Ginny, shoving her trunk into the compartment. "Is it okay if we take these seats?"_

_The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, pale eyebrows, and wide gray eyes…_

Then Luna was standing before him, against all odds outshining her proud father in all his goldenrod-robed glory. She wore the same toga dress and cloak as the other girls, but had finished the look with a wreath of bronze laurels atop her flowing hair. In her arms she held a wicker cornucopia overflowing with fruit and bronze leaves. These details vaguely registered in the back of his mind, but in that moment it was her eyes that stopped him in his tracks. He saw no fear in her gaze, no uncertainty or regret: the look she gave him was full of trust, and hope, and love, and when she smiled up at him, his doubts fell away. As she took her place by his side and turned to face the officiant, Harry took her hand firmly in his own and let out the breath he'd been holding. He could never know what the future held, but one thing was certain: neither of them would have to face it alone.

~~~~~*HP*~~~~~

"Well done, Harry! You actually pulled it off!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Seamus."

Ginny had positioned Harry and Luna to receive their guests between two tables of hors d'oeuvres, and they were currently shaking hands with well-wishers while their friends and family wandered around snacking and admiring the décor. The tables were piled high with exotic fruit, cheeses, and bread, spilling artfully out of tremendous cornucopias. _Ginny really outdid herself, _Harry thought, snagging a handful of grapes before turning his attention back to his friends.

"Do you like my theme?" Luna asked, and Dean and Seamus nodded enthusiastically.

"How did you come up with the Roman idea?" Dean asked, grabbing a fig from the table and popping it into his mouth.

"A few months ago, I dreamed I was wandering through the streets of a strange city with a crown of laurels on my head," Luna replied, taking a fig for herself. "After that, everything just fell into place."

Seamus grinned. "Of course it did."

At that moment, Ginny rushed over with a gaggle of their old classmates, all eager to shake Luna's hand and share their congratulations; Harry found himself shuffled to the edge of the group, which gave him a moment of peace and another chance to grab a bite to eat. It was also, he realized with a start, the first time he had let go of Luna's hand since the ceremony.

He, Dean, and Seamus were joined by Neville and Ron, who was looking more cheerful than he had in days. "It's finally over," he sighed happily, taking some grapes for himself. "Maybe tonight I'll actually be able to get some sleep."

"I don't know why everyone was so worried," Harry huffed. "Everything went fine. Although if it hadn't," he added, giving Ron a look, "I wouldn't have been able to help defend us in an attack since _someone _confiscated my wand at breakfast."

"I couldn't risk you vanishing in the middle of the ceremony, the press would've eaten us alive: 'Hero strands bride at altar, Best Man beaten to death by furious bridesmaids…'"

"I wasn't going to leave!"

"You did look a little out of it, though," Dean said apologetically.

"A bit pale, maybe," Neville added.

"You looked like a tap on the shoulder might push you over the edge," Seamus said, grinning at Harry's furious blush, "so preventing you from hexing us all into oblivion was probably for the best."

"Where is my wand, anyway?" Harry asked Ron, eager to change the subject. "You can give it back now; I'm not going to flee the reception."

Ron shook his head, waving at someone over Harry's shoulder. "I passed it on for safekeeping, just in case you tried to fight me for it in the middle of the ceremony."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Where is it then? You didn't bury it, did you?"

"He gave it to me," Bill said, coming up behind the little group as he dug the wand in question out of his pocket. "Figured I wouldn't be your first guess, and that by the time you realized it was me, someone would have given you a calming draught." He passed the wand back and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "No hard feelings?"

Harry shook his head, grinning. "I don't think I could be mad at anyone right now. Today's been-"

"Harry!"

Luna had reappeared at his side, a brilliant smile on her face. "It's time for our first dance!"

She took his hand and dragged him off, not to back of the tent, where space had been cleared for dancing, but toward the front entrance, back out onto the beach.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" She stretched her arms wide, facing the ocean, the breeze playing with her hair.

"It is," he said softly. He allowed himself to watch her a moment longer before asking, "Are we dancing here?"

"I thought since we got married at the seashore, we could dance in the water," she said, attempting to unbuckle her shoes.

He knelt down and helped slide the leather sandals off her feet before removing his own dress shoes and socks, aware of the growing crowd on the beach behind them. "Alright, I'm game. Have I mentioned I'm a terrible dancer?"

She took his hands and pulled him toward the water. "We'll let the waves tell our feet where to go."

They swayed around the shallows, stepping awkwardly as the water tugged at their ankles and turned their feet numb. Luna spun and laughed as they danced along the shore, and as he held her close, his heart light and his face sore from smiling, he knew that today had been truly spectacular, and he couldn't wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

~The End~

It's finally finished! Thanks again for reading, everyone. If you haven't already, check out my Larry one shots and the first story in the series, Come Wonder with Me, to see where it all started.

~MA


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